


Words Won’t Fail Us

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, No Beta, Written in one sitting, based off a tumblr ask, because I wrote it that way, sadness and crying, this is not a happy fic, why do bad things happen to good people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27058861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: Charmer is dying, it’s his fault, and all she wants from him is one thing.
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Words Won’t Fail Us

**Author's Note:**

> Based off an angst ask prompt on Tumblr, “I’m right here. I’m not leaving, okay?”

She’s going to die, that’s one thing he’s certain of. The other is that it’s not at all how she deserves to go.

She’s supposed to go out in a blaze of glory while mowing down their enemies. Or of old age, surrounded by her friends and family. Not like this. Never like this.

“Deacon?”

His name passes across her lips so quietly he hardly hears it. Just barely exhaled on labored breath.

She’s said his name while breathless before. More than once in the middle of a fire fight, calling out to him as a warning. Often times it wheezes out on the tail end of a laugh, the consequence of a well planned prank or ridiculous pun. And just once he got to hear it, whispered so close to him that he felt it on his face more than heard it. Spoken just a second before she kissed him.

Never has she said it and had it come out as tinged in pain and sadness as is does now.

“It’s okay, Charmer, I’m here.”

He’s here now, but he was too late earlier. If he had been a little faster she wouldn’t be in this position. Her blood wouldn’t be on his hands, both literally and metaphorically. She wouldn’t be dying.

If he had been only a moment faster he could have stopped the raider that snuck up on her. Would have put a bullet in his skull before he could have even thought to swing his bladed bat.

Instead he walked up just in time to see Charmer turn, caught off guard.

Got to watch as the silvery razors sliced into her skin, splitting her torso open as the man ripped his bat away.

Had the misfortune of seeing the pain blossom in real time across her normally smiling face.

The raider is dead now, half a magazine wasted pelting his body with bullets before he remembered that he had to help her. And what a thing to forget, that just moments before he had seen Charmer take a hit that would kill her. But as quickly as the memory left him it returned, and with it panic and fear as he rotated to see her on the ground. Hands red with her own blood as she tried to hold herself together.

A futile effort, but one he knew he would also attempt. And attempt he did, but no stimpack can fix this injury, and no doctor is around for him to run to. They’re near Sanctuary, but not close enough.

That leaves him with nothing.

He can’t do a thing but watch her die.

All his contacts, all his planning, all his intel, and nothing prepared him for this.

Her skin is cold under his hand, but her cheek is soft and he runs his thumb across it, brushing aside dust as he tries so hard to comfort her.

“Don’t go.” She whispers pitifully. “Don’t leave me alone.”

As if he would ever.

“I’m right here. I’m not leaving, okay?”

He can feel the pressure of tears building, but he won’t let her see him cry. She doesn’t need to know that he can’t solve this problem.

“You’re going to be just fine.”

And fuck, he’s a better liar than this, has talked raiders out of their caps and contacts out of their info. He can convince anyone of anything, and yet he knows his words ring hollow in this moment.

Charmer knows it too. She laughs at him, pained and broken, but he hears it. And he can’t believe she’s laughing as she dies.

“Liar.” Deacon doesn’t know what to say. She’s right.

Her face is so pale, highlighting the freckles on her cheeks. He’s always wanted to count them, but in the past he’s always lost track of which ones he’s seen and which ones are unaccounted for. He’ll never know now.

“I’m going to die.”

She says it with such acceptance that he’s momentarily stunned. There’s no denial, bargaining, anger. There’s no fear.

“Charmer-“

“It’s okay.” She’s crying now, tear tracks cutting through the bits of blood and dirt on her face. “If I had to spend my last moments with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

She’s breaking his heart, splitting him open just as she is. Only his wound is invisible. Only his won’t kill him.

“These won’t be your last moments. You’re going to be fine. And when you’re better we’ll get back to being the best spy team the Commonwealth has ever seen.” He wants it to be true, needs it to be so even as he hears her breath become more labored, sees her eyes unfocus before snapping back to his face. “We’ll get that pet deathclaw and find a nice place to settle. Just you and me. We’ll take out the Institute and the Brotherhood and then we’ll run away.”

“Deacon-“ He can’t stand to hear her tell him it’s over. He can’t. He won’t.

“We’ll leave all this behind us. Go somewhere new. DC or further South. Hell we can go all the way to Nevada, I’ll show you around New Vegas.”

“Deacon-“

She can’t be dying, he hasn’t had enough time with her, can’t lose her like he’s lost everything else.

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be- I’ll do whatever you ask Charmer I just need you to stay alive, please.” He can’t stop the tears now, feels them sliding down his cheeks and dripping on the floor. “Please-“ the word cuts off as he chokes on it, desperation bleeding out of him like the blood pouring from her.

“Deacon...” he stops talking, just lifts his head to look at her. “I love you.”

It’s too much, how is he supposed to tell her how much she means to him? Those three words aren’t enough, they’ll never be enough. “Fuck Charmer I can’t lose you- I can’t, you saved me, gave me my life back. You have to stay here to see me live it.”

As he begs her to keep holding on, her hand finds his, having given up entirely on keeping her blood inside. She’s weak, he knows this, but she still squeezes his hand firmly. “I’ll always be with you, I promise,” she winces against the pain. “Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.” He has no idea what she’ll ask for, can’t fathom it from the hundreds of possibilities.

“Will you tell me a story?”

Leave it to Charmer to throw him one last curve ball. But he said he would, if she wants to hear a story, he’ll tell her the best damn story there ever was.

“Once upon a time there was a girl. Strong and beautiful. Witty and much too charming,” she smiles up at him as he talks through the tears, “and there was a boy. Haunted by his past and trying to make up for it with every moment of his future. I don’t mean to spoil the ending, but they fall in love.”

As he talks he holds her close, listens to her breathing as it worsens, feels her heart turn sluggish under his palm. He talks until her eyes close, until her lungs stop moving, until her heart finally stills. And then he keeps talking, numb to everything even as the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. He keeps talking for as long as he has a voice, until his throat is raw and he no longer can make a sound.

Then he picks her up from the floor and starts to walk. The moment his voice returns he tells her another story. A true one. There’s no use in lying to the dead, they can sense a lie, can spot a fake.

The sun is peeking over the horizon when he spotsthe familiar sight of Sanctuary Hills. He’s met on the bridge by Charmer’s second-in-command. Preston offers to take her from him, give him a break, but he refuses. She’s his responsibility. There’s nothing but a numbness inside him as the two men dig a grave for her. He feels nothing as she’s lowered into the ground, he has no more tears to give. He has nothing left, not anymore.

The Minutemen Colonial stays with him for a long time, but when all his questions are met with silence, he gives up, leaving Deacon alone.

A bone deep weariness settles over him, and he closes his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Charmer. You weren’t supposed to die.” He opens them again to find that he does in fact have more tears to cry. “I’m sorry.” He’s apologizing for so much, but there’s no one to tell him it’s okay, Charmer is gone, and no amount of apologies or stories will ever bring her back.

There’s nothing left for him here. There’s nothing left for her, either.

He’s got no more stories worth telling.


End file.
